


enraptured

by ms_starlight71



Series: smutty vignettes from season 11 [2]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Dirty Talk, Episode: s01e01 Pilot, Episode: s01e08 Ice (X-Files), Episode: s03e02 Paper Clip, Episode: s03e04 Clyde Bruckman's Final Repose, Episode: s05e14 The Red and the Black, Episode: s06e19 The Unnatural, Explicit Sexual Content, Movie: The X-Files: Fight the Future (1998), Season/Series 11, Shameless Smut, The Unremarkable House (X-Files), The X-Files Revival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:14:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27910603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ms_starlight71/pseuds/ms_starlight71
Summary: msr, soft but smutty morning sex, set sometime in season 11
Relationships: Fox Mulder & Dana Scully, Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Series: smutty vignettes from season 11 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2079912
Comments: 3
Kudos: 64





	enraptured

**Author's Note:**

> can’t stop thinking about [this chapter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25717768/chapters/63275053) in [ you he did not fail ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25717768?view_full_work=true)by [ extraordinarily_ordinary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/extraordinarily_ordinary/pseuds/extraordinarily_ordinary) (if you haven’t read it yet, you ABSOLUTELY MUST) and of course, [blue mischief](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27462031) by my fav [ kittenscully](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenscully/pseuds/kittenscully)
> 
> isn’t every writer, an amalgamation of their favorite writers? every smutty fic just a collection of all your favorite smutty fics?

He traces his fingers over the light pink scar on her neck. The once rough edges have been smoothed over by time, soft like the rest of her. He thinks about how he once touched that same spot with fervor, the sizzle of the erotic tension that filled that darkened room in Alaska. The wisps of her baby hairs, curled and fine, tickling the back of his hand. He thinks it may have been a foretelling. This space between her body and mind, the bridge between what makes her whole, where their two souls meet. 

_The truth is in you, Scully._ He was once called it a homing beacon, a device that lures people to the rapture. 

The force of her integrity. _I need something to put my back up against, Mulder._ Gives rise to her magnetic pull. 

She is aperture, that which through light passes. And all he can do is catch the heat of her rays.

He places his lips there, and she hums. 

“Mulder,” she mumbles. He craves these moments when she has just awoken and is pliant and suggestible under his gaze. Always willing to indulge. 

“Baby,” he tempts. 

His thumb moves to stroke the indent of her hip, fingers splayed along her thigh. _Hips before hands._

He doesn’t think he will ever get enough of her, the swell of her ass against his morning erection, the dip of her waist. The outline her body makes against his in the morning light. If he squints, he can’t tell where he ends, and she begins. 

She meets his hand at her hip, brings it to her mouth to kiss his knuckles, draws lines across the veins that travel downward.

The morning makes him no less eager to devour her in ways that would make her blush. This woman gives him blowjobs so thorough you’d think she was being graded, and curses like a sailor in moments of ecstasy, but her cheeks still burn bright pink, eyelashes flutter, bashful gaze when he describes in great detail all the ways he wants to fuck her. It reminds him of the young woman she was when they first met, that knowing smile she gave him that first day in his basement office. 

He grips each cheek in his hand, pauses, smooths his fingers over the expanse of them slowly, with intention.

“Your ass, Scully,” he gasps into the space behind her ear. 

He nestles his cock in between, tensing slightly to squeeze her ass against it. 

“God,” he groans, long and low. She moves to push back against him, creating more friction. 

“Scully.”

“Mmmm,” she murmurs, a hum of _yes, baby?_ that he has come to know well. 

“I used to dream about this, Scully. Your milky ass. The way it moves when you walk.”

He pumps his cock in even rhythm with his words. 

His musings come out in a string of nonsense. After so many years of Mulder monologues, she delights in the way he rambles about her body. Gets off on the deep timber of his bedroom voice. 

“Mulder,” she pants, reaches her hand between her thighs. Use me,” she prompts. 

It takes him a second, and then he moans in understanding, with satisfaction at her encouragement. 

He reaches between them to find her wet, dripping in arousal.

“So wet for me.”

He pushes two fingers inside of her and she pulses around him. He curls his fingers against her front wall, longs to stay cocooned in the warmth of her. He reluctantly pulls out. Coats his cock in her arousal and resumes his ministrations between her ass cheeks. 

He never knew it could be like this. Sensual and slow, intimate, deliciously filthy, all at the same time. 

The slick of him makes lewd sounds as he fucks her ass cheeks. 

“Fuck, Scully. God, you feel so tight, even like this.” 

His words galvanize her forward.

“I want to see you, Mulder. I neeed to see you,” she purrs. 

She uses her body weight to shift him onto his back and rolls over on top of him, bracketing each side of him with her knees. She’s so petite, he forgets sometimes how quickly she can pin him if she wants to. 

His eyes are glazed over, in awe of her. 

_How does he do that?_ She thinks, looks at me like it’s the first time, every time. 

“I have a better idea,” she says with the curl of her lip and a glimmer in her bright blue eyes. 

She moves herself downwards, licks her lips, swipes the fat of her tongue against his thick cock. 

“Tastes good, doesn’t it?” he growls. “That’s you. Tangy and sweet, like salt water.” 

She hums around him as she sucks him deeply once, swirls her tongue around his tip. His hand reaches to palm her hair, tugs gently, reassurance, more than encouragement. 

For a second, she is in his hallway, his hand caressing her hair, the sting of a bee making her woozy on her feet. 

She lets him go with a loud pop and shimmies her hips a little, as if to move back up his lean, toned body. 

Her breasts sway and his eyes follow her dark nipples. He thinks maybe Scully’s tits could coax him into hypnosis. Unsure of what she’ll do next, he grabs her hand to ground him to the bed, reminded of the way her hypnotic moans aroused something in him all those years ago. He’d like to be cemented to this moment, forever. 

She takes the mounds of her breasts into each of her hands, giving into the sensation. She pinches her nipples. He licks his lips in appreciation. Wants to suck them into his mouth and swallow them down. Doesn’t care if he chokes on them. Thinks that would be a glorious way to go. Autoerotic asphyxiation. 

“Oh god,” she sighs. “Yes, fuck me, Mulder.” He didn’t realize he said all of that out loud. 

And then she leans down, lets gravity have its way with her. And cradles his cock between her tits. 

He sits up on his elbows, needing leverage and not wanting to miss a single moment of what this woman does to him. 

“Mulder. I want you to fuck my tits. Please,” she moans. 

His eyes go wide, boring into her own. He bites his lip, almost as if he is unsure. And cocks his head like a question. 

“I want you to be in control,” she answers. 

He lifts his hand to cradle her cheek for just a moment and then nods imperceptibly.

Takes her hands and places them on the peak of his hipbones, her thumbs form a cross against them. 

The weight of her breasts and the width of his cock are enough for now. He wants to start gentle and slow. 

He covers her hands with his own as he picks up a new rhythm between her breasts. 

“Scully, do you see what you do to me?” he whimpers, his words heavy and breathy.

“Look, Scully,” he demands. He palms the back of her head to point her eyes downward. The arousal in her eyes makes him grow harder beneath her gaze. 

She darts out the tip of her tongue to wipe the precum that his leaking from his cock. 

“Fuck,” he thrusts. “You’re so good, Scully. So fuckin’ good.” 

She marvels at the way his abs ripple in the light that streams in from the window. She’d like to spend hours just tracing the ridges of his ab muscles with her tongue. Play with his chest hair as she does. Wonders if she could get him off just like that. Maybe next weekend she’ll put her hypothesis to the test.

For a second, she is distracted. Follows the light it to where it is peeking out from behind the curtain. One day soon she’d like him to fuck her against the glass. Feel the chill air against her breasts in contrast to the fire of his chest from behind. The twinkle of the stars illuminating them in the darkness. There is no way in which she doesn’t want to know him. 

“Baby,” he murmurs, and her eyes return to his blackened depths. 

She brings her hands back to her breasts to squeeze his cock, the added plushness spurring him on. 

“That’s it, Scully,” he groans, as sweat begins to drip from her chest with exertion, mixing with their combined arousals to increase the slickness of his thrusts. 

“Mulder,” she implores. “I need you to come inside of me.” She pauses. “I ache for it.” 

That’s all the encouragement he needs. He sits all the way up, scoots his back up against the headboard and tugs her along with him. 

She is worked up. Unbearably needy. Already missing the closeness of him. She takes his wet cock into her hand and slides him in easily. They both exhale with a moan. 

Before she can find a rhythm he stops her with a hand to her temple. 

“I need to hear you,” he croaks. “Scully, please I need to hear you.” 

His eyes are so full, tears threaten to spill over. She is moved by his sincerity, the way he makes her feel wanton and adored all at the same time. She acquiesces with a kiss to his palm and begins to ride him with intention. 

The tempo of their thrusts soon ebbs and flow like the beats of a metronome. 

He reaches forward to suck her pretty little tits into his mouth and she lets out a long moan of approval. Delights in the way his scruff creates pinpricks of pleasure against the softness of her. Cradles his head to her chest, the feel of her nails scraping his scalp making him shiver. 

“Yes, just like that,” she encourages, the sounds of her pleasure grow louder and louder with each pump of his hips. 

He laps at her, catches the residue of their combined arousals in his mouth and hums his approval, feels it vibrate through her chest. 

“We taste so good, Scully.” 

“Mulder, please,” she begs. 

He increases his speed, adjusts slightly to watch his cock disappear inside of her. The sight of it is almost too much to bear. He finds her hand at his shoulder brings it to cup the heat of her mound. 

“Feel that, Scully? That’s us. That’s what we feel like,” airy and in awe. 

She tilts her head down to see herself take him in. The appearance of their bodies so incongruent and yet so perfectly matched. Her eyes flit up, watching him, watch her. She is cock drunk and full. How is it possible that her chest aches for him even when he is so deep inside of her? 

“Look at you. You’re so fucking pretty on my cock. You like that, huh? Like, watching? Get off on it, don’t you?"

She begins to make steady circles around her clit, feels the slide of his cock beneath her middle finger.

He’s rambling now, streams of dirty things he longs to do to her body. It makes her toes curl. 

She’s moaning, wailing, blissfully uninhibited. He loves her like this. 

“That’s it, baby. I want you to come for me, all over my cock. I love watching you come.” 

She slows her circles to drag out her orgasm as his words bring her over the edge. She arches into him, her clit making contact with his pubic mound on the downstroke. Lets out a guttural sigh. 

He can’t take his eyes off her, enraptured in the way she shatters above him. Staves off his orgasm. Lets her settle. As she adjusts, her eyes blink rapidly in succession. Brings her ocean eyes to his. 

“Come inside me, Mulder. Please,” she demands steady and seductive. And with one last clench of her around him, he comes, moaning, burrowing his face into the crook of her neck. 

He returns back to her in pieces, as she smooths the thick of his hair between her hands. 

“I love you,” she whispers.

“Come home,” he pleas, the intimacy of their lovemaking reducing him to his barest self. 

“Mulder,” she murmurs, places a kiss to the wrinkle between his brow. “I already am.”


End file.
